


In the Theater

by Hamyheikki



Category: The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel - Michael Scott
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24203941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamyheikki/pseuds/Hamyheikki
Summary: An evening in the theater is always far more interesting when your own works are on stage.But if those said works are not regarded too fondly by the author...
Relationships: Palamedes/William Shakespeare (Nicholas Flamel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	In the Theater

**Author's Note:**

> This came up in Discord, and @jusp1998 is the mastermind behind the main idea of the fic.

“We should have gotten here sooner. The line was as long as a year of famine.”

Over the centuries, Palamedes had grown accustomed to his partner’s never-ending litany of complaints. William was rarely satisfied, be it a matter of food, their work, or even his own stories and plays. Which, Palamedes silently suspected, was one of the reasons he’d stopped writing them in the first place. 

Checking their seats from his ticket, Palamedes lifted his own voice in order for it to carry over the buzzing around them. “Wouldn’t have made any difference. Heard that this crew of performers tends to always bring in the crowd.”

The man beside him muttered something inaudible, but did follow along when Palamedes started to push his way towards the main stage below.

The theater they’d chosen was a rather known around the city: Regent’s Park Open-Air Theater. It was, as the name suggested, an outdoor stage, and given how grey the London’s weather had a habit of being, this was a trip the two of them had been planning for a while now. Waiting for the sun to show itself just for the evening. Tonight, a day of sunlight had brightened the sky and they had made their decision. The seats were warmed by the said light, and were surprisingly comfortable to sit on. Grateful for finally having a chance to rest after wading through the sea of people, Palamedes slumped into his with a sigh. The fresh evening air felt good against his skin, and the longer he breathed it in, the more he could feel his mood grow lighter. There was the constant background noise of people, actors and music tests, but it all felt like a lifetime away, now that he at last could just sit and breathe -

“I don’t particularly care for the cover art.”

Blinking himself back to awareness, Palamedes sat up. He braced his arm against William’s shoulder, trying to get a better look at the small pamphlet they’d been given at the entrance. It seemed to include the main points of the play, a list of actors and some errand photos from the past performances. The cover, however, was merely a photo of a young couple, clearly a pair of lovers. At least if the pose was anything to go by, the lady’s head pressed tightly against the leading man’s broad chest.

Palamedes shrugged. “Seems fine to me.”

 _“Fine?”_ The look of outrage on William’s face was borderline comical, if not only for the fact that the grimace caused his glasses to slip dangerously downward. “It is completely wrong in every aspect imaginable!”

“How so?”

William shook his head, eyes now nailed onto the booklet. “They are painting it out to be a _love story!_ A _dramatic_ love story!”

They had chosen a piece of William’s own work, _Othello._ It was a rare occurrence for them to even attend a live performance such as this, and positively unheard off when William’s own plays were in question. The man had been surprisingly stubborn over the years, refusing to take part in any recent shows put on the stage under his name. So, when he had insisted upon seeing this one, Palamedes had agreed on the spot. Now, he was growing more curious by the minute.

“Isn’t it, though? A love story?”

The pair of pale eyes snapped up to him in a flash. “It most certainly is not!” The pamphlet nearly went flying with the wild wave of the man’s arm. “It is a tale of injustice, religion and the conflict between Othello and Iago! But they’re presenting this as a... a Romeo & Juliet part 2!”

Taking another glance at the cover, Palamedes shrugged again. “It is just for the marketing. I doubt they’d have actually changed the plot.”

And just like that, a silence fell. William’s hands, so lively a mere moment ago, flopped down, and the rest of the man followed suit, sinking back onto the seat.

“Wouldn’t hurt to change it around _a little_.”

Raising his eyebrow, Palamedes glanced the man beside him. The slender fingers had curled around the pages of the booklet, the paper wrinkling under their hold. 

“You do realise you’re being very inconsistent with your whining today, don’t you?” He hoped his voice was suitably teasing, despite the real worry hidden beneath it. Since they’d left their home, Will had been acting oddly, although not too visibly so. There had been chatter between them during the walk, but far less than what Palamedes had come to expect. Even now, it seemed as though William was double-guessing his words right after letting them out.

At the moment, it looked like his bantering question would go unanswered. The slight man hadn’t raised his gaze, nor was the fidgeting showing signs of halting anytime soon. Tension swirling around them was starting to turn unpleasant, _unnerving_. The silence was not a relaxed one, and as Palamedes kept on watching his companion, it was beginning to dawn upon him that there was indeed something more in play here.

Slowly, but with an intent, he leaned back in, close enough for his shoulder to touch with William’s.

“You know, come to think of it, you have been complaining quite a few times already. The line, the cover art, them possibly _not_ modifying your original text...” His voice was even, void of blame or disapproval. “It almost seems like you’re searching for excuses to hate the show before you’ve even seen it.”

He felt the sudden shift in William’s posture rather than saw it. The man had tensed up, shoulders rising shortly before dropping down again after a deep sigh escaped.

“Sometimes, my dear, I fear you might know me a bit too well.” Without taking his eyes off of booklet, William moved his weight so that he was practically glued to Palamedes side. 

“What is it that bother you so much about it? Based on the reviews, it sounds like a solid play.”

His words made William curl up. “Then those critics have not taken a good enough look at it.”

The complete picture was at last starting to form in Palamedes’ head. 

“You are worried about the possible implications one might pick up from the text.”

He saw the way William flinched beside him, and knew he had guessed correctly. And, if he was completely honest with himself, he could understand why his friend had his doubts. The story had many unfortunate moments which, when viewed in the light of modern day, were up for scrutiny. It was obvious that William was more aware of the fact than anyone else.

The silent murmur brought his attention back to the present. 

“I do wish I could have written it all over again. To have you see it only after that.”

Palamedes felt his chest tighten up at the sorrowful tone. “I have read the book, Will.”

“I know, I know. It’s just...” The smaller man sighed, his hands still living a life of their own on his lap. “The whole play is a product of its time. And I’m not trying to excuse parts of it, truly I’m _not,_ but -”

“William.” Leaning in, Palamedes took a hold of one of the wriggling hands, his grip firm and steady. The gesture seemed to calm his companion slightly, as the blue eyes finally flickered up to meet with his. “This play was written four hundred years ago. By a completely different man, compared to the one currently sitting beside me.” A gentle smile followed the words, and Palamedes offered his own in return.

“The thing I don’t understand is, why did you insist we come and see this particular play, when clearly it is not one you actually enjoy?” 

Next to him, William huffed, gaze dropping down again. “I have not seen this group performing it.”

Palamedes rolled his eyes. “Are you expecting to be pleasantly surprised?”

“After that cover art, not anymore.”

The dry tone brought a chuckle out of Palamedes. “So why stay? We could go and have a nice dinner out, it you’d prefer.” William, typically, was not the type to withstand something out of politeness. Even if he might consider leaving before the play starts as rude, it would not prevent him from doing so.

It took a minute or two, but eventually he got his answer. William’s voice was kept low, which made Palamedes look down at him properly once he spoke.

“Well, perhaps one should take time to reflect every now and then.”

The grin died off from Palamedes’ face, a frown taking its place. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

William’s eyes drifted onto the pamphlet. “It merely means I do not wish to repeat mistakes I may have made in past. Especially when I have the chance to take a look at those mistakes up close, firsthand.”

Before Palamedes could respond -- not that his baffled brain had much to offer either way -- , William spoke up again.

“Would you happen to have a pencil on you?”

Increasingly confused, Palamedes patted his pockets. After a while of searching, he pulled out a worn pen. “Will this do?”

“Splendidly.” Without explaining himself further, William took the pen, sat up straight, and turned to look at the stage. “I think it’s starting shortly.”

He was right. It didn’t take more than few minutes before the stage was filled with actors, assistants and musicians. The crowd around them fell silent as the show took off, gentle voices from the arena carrying effortlessly over the masses. There was melodies played alongside of the scenes, the lightness of the sounds swirling together in the summer evening. The story itself was captivating. Despite having read it all before, Palamedes found his focus constantly being pulled back on the actors, the tempo of their performance, and most importantly to the flow of words they spoke out. Familiar lines, pieces of dialog he could recall from the past. The plot had indeed remained as it was originally, and at times Palamedes caught himself mouthing out the phrases before the actors did. Soon though, his keen hearing got caught on something else entirely. A silent rustle, coming from the seat next to his. 

William was writing things down. Short, barely readable sentences and odd words here and there, scribbled all over the pamphlet. The cover was already taken over by the ink. It was near impossible to make out what it actually said, but years of living together had taught Palamedes to decipher most if not all of William’s doodles, no matter how messy they appeared to a common eye. 

They were corrections. Changes to the lines, to the plot, even to the characters themselves. Every now and then he’d glance up, stare down at the stage for a moment, before returning to his notes. It was... endearing, and a sight that for some reason made Palamedes’ chest feel tight and relieved at the same time. 

He kept his silence. Well, at least up to the point when the play came to an end. There was a round of standing ovation -- the crew had turned out to be a truly talented bunch, living up to their reputation -- and after they had waited a moment for the worst rush of people to exit the seat rows, the two men started to head out. 

As he gently guided William through the scattering crowd, Palamedes smiled at the way the pamphlet, filled with messy notes, was tightly squeezed against the man’s chest. “You planning on using that some time in the future?” he asked, gesturing towards pages. 

The grip of the booklet tightened and the warm smile directed at him made Palamedes’ heart jump, just a bit. 

“We’ll see.”


End file.
